


Let Your Demons Run

by bowlingmoderately (moderatelybowling)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hallucinations, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, god i wish i had an excuse for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 12:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11126736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moderatelybowling/pseuds/bowlingmoderately
Summary: He really shouldn’t be surprised when his hallucination starts manifesting hisotherimpulses, too.





	Let Your Demons Run

Ed’s always known what the _other_ him is. For one thing he’s not _real,_ but that doesn’t really seem to matter with how effectively he can work up Ed, getting him yelling into thin air just to get him to just shut _up_ , even though he knows that’s exactly what his hallucination wants him to do. To make a fool of himself, shouting at a man who isn’t even really there, to feel the hot shame creep up his neck at the humiliation of even acknowledging the other him.

For another thing, his hallucination is a manifestation of his impulses. More specifically his _dark_ impulses, the ones he tries so hard to keep under wraps. His anger and his violence all wrapped up in one smirking package, always ready to torment him, never letting him forget who he really is.

He really shouldn’t be surprised when his hallucination starts manifesting his _other_ impulses too, a few weeks into his job at the GCPD. He isn’t really, when the other him starts showing up with a few more buttons than necessary undone, when he starts lounging around with his legs spread a little too wide, whispering filth into Ed’s ear about what he could do to that intern at the front desk, or the new transfer from upstate, or the woman in the records department. He ignores the whispers, focuses more on his work, refuses to let his hallucination get under his skin.

The other him doesn’t seem to share the same goal. He starts showing up more and more frequently, always with that damn _smirk_ , even tormenting him with his whispers at home, now. And he’s good at what he does, always leaving Ed embarrassingly hard, digging his fingers into his own thigh, refusing to touch himself, to give in to what the projection wants. 

He can’t even escape the torment in sleep, a fact which becomes abundantly clear one night when he wakes up with a start, achingly hard from the filth that his mind had supplied for his dreams, wet mouths and strong hands and slick thighs.

Before he can think better of it he’s shoving his hand down his boxers, groaning in relief as he wraps a hand around himself.

He’s not quite sure when the other him appears, only that one minute he’s alone, rocking up into his own fist, and the next he’s looking up to see his own lust-darkened eyes staring at him, his hallucination crouched over him, straddling his thighs. He’s not touching him, he _can’t_ touch him, but he’s all that Ed can see, his face familiar but somehow different, the confidence and ruthlessness of his other self radiating out of him.

“That’s right, Eddie… just like that. It feels good, doesn’t it?” His other self’s voice is rough, almost unrecognizable, and Ed can’t help but shiver, whimpering as he stares up at him, nodding frantically in response, his hand speeding up. The other him laughs, incredulous.

“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you? Me being here, me talking to you.” He leans in closer, his face inches from Ed’s own, and _god_ does Ed wish he could deny it. He can’t though, even if he did the other him would know he was lying, so he just moans in response. The rough voice is driving him crazy, the false heat of the other him’s body searing against his bare skin, even though they’re not even touching.

“You look good like this, you know. You look pretty, all spread out and desperate.” The real Ed gasps, arching up into his hand, feeling precut dribble over his fist. He’s close, so so close, the words of praise pushing him even closer. “Bet you’d look even better stretched around my cock. We both know we’re big, but you’d take it like a champ, Eddie. I’m gonna make it happen. Don’t know how, but I will. I’m gonna fuck you till you _beg_.” He whispers the last word in his ear, and then, _somehow_ , there's wet heat against Ed’s ear, his hallucination's tongue slick against his skin, and he’s yelling, his voice hoarse as he comes all over his fist, staring up his other self with wide eyes, at his sharp grin, obviously pleased with himself. 

And then he’s gone, Ed alone on his bed again, panting and wide-eyes, fingers sticky with his own come. And here comes the shame, the humiliation at giving into his impulses, at giving so much power to his projected-self that he can _touch_ him now.

He falls asleep still shaking, but this time not from arousal. He shuts his eyes tight against the faint green flow of the lights outside his apartment, wishing that he could also block out the faint chuckling he can hear from the other side of his room, the familiarity of the voice not bringing any comfort at all.

**Author's Note:**

> im so so sorry and like i wish i could say i got it out of my system but... i really didnt  
> thanks for reading????? help me


End file.
